


All I Want

by Origingirl



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Eventual Romance, Horror, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origingirl/pseuds/Origingirl
Summary: Blake's greatest strength lies in his ability to be apathetic in practically any scenario. He wouldn't have achieved as much as he has in the world of science if his mind was bound by silly things like morals or reason. Perhaps this has served him on earth, but what about on his mission? Many colleagues already view his apparent lack of empathy as not-quite-human enough. However, Blake doesn't care about that. His greatest motivation has always been knowledge itself.
Relationships: Black/Green (Among Us), Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us), Pink/White (Among Us)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Launch

**Author's Note:**

> This story is heavily inspired by the Among Us rendition of CrimsonChains! You can find their amazing original Among Us stories on their Instagram @crimsonchains. I hope you enjoy my take!
> 
> The names of the characters are as follows:  
> \- Blake = Black  
> \- Gavin = Green  
> \- Pierce = Pink  
> \- Wyatt = White  
> Sorry Among Us fans, but I need actual names to work with any form of plot, haha.

Maybe he’s always destined to be alone. Not that he minded, really. 

If others didn’t have the competence to see the possibilities beyond reason or morals, that’s not his fault, is it? Besides, the only reason he was assigned to this mission was because of the list of his contributions to the field, which is a result of his calculative mind and curious personality. 

So what if he barely seems human to some? So what if he feels no nostalgic attachment to Earth? He feels he’s learned all he can from the place of his birth, so what’s the point in continuing research there?

Humanity has come such a long way. Everything about their past and present has been precisely 98.2% uncovered already. Earth is becoming more and more crowded by the day.

It’s time to look to the stars. 

And that’s precisely what the revolutionary scientist, Kay Mira, sought to do at the start of 2025. MIRA HQ has been Earth’s center for advancement in every field of science since it’s founding.

Blake considers himself lucky to have been born when he was. He’s certain his outlook and methods would have been vastly out of place in any century prior. But now, in 4025, on the second-century anniversary of MIRA HQ’s founding, humanity is ready to launch its first human-ran interstellar mission.

All is well from the outside—from the perspective of the layperson who runs a typical nine to five job or who goes to college or who’s a stay-at-home parent. Only those a part of MIRA’s inner circle know the truth.

 _Impostors_ was the agreed upon name. 

Because “aliens” didn’t fit the bill—not when whatever these extraterrestrials are masked themselves down to bio-recognizable fingerprints and eye scans. Whatever plans they had for humanity required a sleek, quiet, stealthy invasion versus the apocalyptic ones Blake has seen in all the vintage movies from the mid to late-2000s.

Fitting, he’d thought when news of the first mortuary case came back. Blake was always of the opinion that should extraterrestrials choose to take over, it would be far, far more thought out and organized than anyone could suspect.

Perhaps only an insane person would be excited to board a mission that would perhaps never return home due to the threat of Impostors, but Blake always thought everyone else around him was too sane. 

He knows and everyone else at MIRA knows that the international science headquarters of the world wasn’t built with clean hands. Why is he viewed as any different? Well. No matter. Today is the day he meets his team, and he figures he should at least make an effort to be seen.

They are a relatively simple bunch despite being some of the world’s leading individuals in their respective fields, Blake had thought after the initial welcome meeting. No one stuck out to him in particular, except for one soon-to-be-crewmate: a jovial, smiling man with fiery pink hair and a bright aura. Quite the opposite to himself. He wonders if they’ll get along. The people assigned to this mission weren’t selected based on personality compatibility, after all.

“So. Are you scared?” The pink-haired one had asked Blake upon exiting their welcoming meeting.

Come to think of it, they weren’t formally introduced to one another. All that mattered to MIRA is the quality and quantity of contributions to their fields behind each individual. Names came secondary. Although, Blake already knew the majority of people who would be joining the mission simply because they were renowned in the world of science.

“Elated, actually,” Blake replied. “Think of everything we don’t know waiting for us up there.”

If this pink-haired man was at all put-off by his response, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just smiled and nodded. 

“There is a lot on the line, but with great risks come great rewards, right?”

Blake hummed in agreement. “Well, I’ll see you on launch day.”

And when that day came, Blake saw the reality of this situation hit his crewmates like a speeding hovercar if their expressions were anything to go by.

He couldn’t blame them, though. Not everyone has the privilege of being as naturally apathetic as he is.

The large ramp that took them upward to The Skeld offered a view of tens of thousands of people from all walks of life eager to see the lift-off—the next giant step for humanity.

Blake could care less about the “greater ambitions” of the human race. All he cared about was knowledge.

A small voice in the back of his head whispered hope for an encounter, but he knew that was wishful thinking. The Skeld’s security is as advanced as it’s tech. There’s no room for a miscalculation—no room for an _Impostor_ attack. There have only been four official documented cases, and they have all been scattered as if these beings were careless and thoughtless in their pursuit.

Of course, Blake knew better.

Every move the Impostors made was infused with purpose—it’s implied in their very human-given name.

So, all that’s left to do now is wait and wonder: are there any Impostors among us?


	2. Cruising Altitude

Others may have whined about it, but Blake appreciated the modest accommodations that The Skeld offered. It wasn’t that different of a set up from his room back home. Once they successfully exited Earth’s atmosphere, the crew were allowed to roam free. The only other time they’d need to buckle back up was during unusually high turbulence, but they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with that until a mere light year away from Polus. So, Blake took to unpacking.

As he did so, he found he still couldn’t shake the feeling he’d contracted just before take-off.

Mathematically, there is less than 0.000001% chance this mission will be sabotaged by an Impostor and Blake had always been the left-brained type. He could count on one hand the times he’d given into superstitious whispers from his hypothalamus. Still…

Just as the doors were closing to The Skeld’s bridge, Blake remembers being on the far left of his crew and glancing to his right, looking over the people he’d be spending months upon months with.

He didn’t remember which one in particular (or maybe it was more than one?) made his amygdala surge out of nowhere, but the _feeling_ was there—and as much as Blake finds comfort in his analytical mind, humanity wouldn’t have survived for as long as they have without that _feeling: error, error, error._

Perhaps it’s his body-mind separation, Blake thought as he unpacked. He’s beyond intelligent and able to withstand just about any life-churning event, but his body is still the same as any other human’s. It can get tired, stressed, and even depressed if he didn’t pay close enough attention.

Yes. Maybe that’s it. After all, less than 0.000001%. He’s sure he had nothing to worry about—or rather, he’s certain his crewmates will be fine. Blake himself can’t seem to find a speck of worry anywhere in his brain.

That evening, Blake can’t recall who, but one of the crewmates suggested a big group dinner to get to know each other better. They had enough rations for it, so Blake supposed it could provide some lighthearted banter before the real work began.

The cafeteria on this ship reminded Blake of his old high mess hall when he’d first joined the mission and got to see The Skeld’s interior. He’s certain he’s the only person here comfortable with his accommodations if his crew’s small talk was anything to go by.

Food is more fuel to Blake, and he’s also _very, very_ certain he’s the only one who felt that way judging by his crewmate’s expressions when they first dug in. 

It almost made him laugh.

On the other hand, that same pink-haired man couldn’t seem to do anything but smile and laugh. Names eluded Blake as soon as the crew finished formally introducing themselves. Blake had a general idea of who these experts were, but only on a passer-by level. But he took precautions to ensure _this_ man’s name stuck: _Pierce._

He was so incredibly opposite to Blake’s own demeanor and mannerisms, he found himself intrigued. Blake’s surprised Pierce is as renowned as he is at MIRA—that fiery pink hair is the pinnacle of unprofessionalism (along with his four or five piercings). Then again, he guesses that people don’t care what a person looks like if their work speaks for itself these days.

At dinner, Pierce must have noticed how quiet Blake is. Blake himself didn’t mind, but Pierce insisted he join in on the conversation and smiles and laughs. In no time, Pierce became dinner’s centerpiece—a true extrovert.

By the time dinner came to a close, Blake felt _physically_ exhausted from speaking unnecessarily. Well… he knows other people just call it _“talking,”_ but for Blake, it felt like a chore. Still, he was glad he could find out more about Pierce. The man is a biologist, a dog _and_ cat lover, and practically lives off of sweets.

Opposite to him in practically every way, it seems. Blake can’t stand sugary things.

Perhaps Blake doesn’t feel a nostalgic attachment to Earth like other people do, but one of the first things he noticed missing right away was the lack of Sun. The Skeld measured time by the hour for the crew to keep them on a decent sleep schedule, but Blake always rose best with the Sun.

Ah, well. Just one more thing to get used to.

With one week in the bag, Blake felt accustomed to The Skeld’s inner workings. Its layout is simple and leaves no room for anything but the essentials. As MIRA’s first human-staffed interstellar journey, they didn’t want to spend more than what was necessary for human livelihood and wellbeing. Tech may have changed in two centuries, but capitalism has yet to kick the bucket.

And this time, the rest of the crew seemed happy with the simple amenities of the ship—it’s less to memorize (well, less for one with an IQ above a certain number, anyways).

Crewmates took to partnering up pretty quickly. Blake wasn’t too in the loop, but only because he’s spoken with Pierce more than any other crewmate does he know that the man’s befriended Wyatt—the one wearing the white suit.

Pierce always insisted Blake join them in completing their daily tasks around the ship, but another person is one too many for Blake. The most he could ever do is one-on-one. Besides, he knew he’d just be a third wheel.

Still, Pierce never stopped offering. That in of itself was… not unpleasant. As distant as he is, having someone thinking about him and always looking to include him felt… nice, Blake supposed.

After two weeks went by, he found himself the center of questions from either the chemists or the engineers of the ship, as he, in his career at MIRA, mastered both. 

_This_ talking he could manage: no nonsensical-words-for-words sake talking, but words with a _purpose_ behind them. He answered all queries to the best of his ability, and while his crew thanked him for it, they paid him no mind in any other social situation—the best of both worlds, in Blake’s opinion. He could work, collaborate, and then be on his own way.

After a month, he could sense the crew had nearly fully adapted to The Skeld as their temporary home-away-from-home. On more than one occasion, on his way to electrical or admin or wherever, he’d catch a few glimpses of Pierce and… Wyatt, was it? They wouldn’t be doing anything in particular—just staring out into the void together.

Blake briefly wonders if they’ll be as close-knit once The Skeld returns to Earth.

Two months in was when The Skeld had it’s first scare.

Blake awoke to his room consumed in red and the sound of blaring sirens.

The reactor.

That wasn’t good.

He rushed down the halls until he arrived at a group of almost all his crewmates. He could tell by their voices that their faces are painted in worry beneath their helmets. Perhaps everyone knew in the back of their minds that something malfunctioning is a real possibility, but because of just how high tech The Skeld is, they must have pushed it aside.

Blake couldn’t blame them. Still. There’s the problem of the reactor and now there’s a problem with a bunch of panicked human beings.

With some effort, Blake managed to push through and access the emergency hatch. Just as he was about to attempt fixing a reactor the size of a small mansion by himself, a commanding and calculative voice rang out through their shared communications channel.

Blake turned to see that it was his crewmate dawning a dark green suit getting everyone’s attention.

“Has it not occurred to you that we’ll all die if we don’t get this fixed in time? So far, Blake seems to be the only one with a level head on his shoulders.” The Green one spoke.

He then knelt down right beside Blake and proceeded to aid in finding the problem and fixing it. The rest of the crew looked at one another for a few moments before going in to help, too. 

It took the better part of exactly fifteen minutes, but soon enough, the glaring red lights and blaring sirens abruptly stopped. 

A hole.

A small, small hole that looked as if it were punched into the reactor with a sharp, titanium hole puncher was the source of the problem. It allowed for harmful gasses to leak, which could cause a mirid of other issues around the ship.

So small. It couldn’t have been bigger than the tip of Blake’s pinky finger, and his hands were slightly smaller than average.

_“Odd,”_ was the first thing that came to his mind after they patched it up. The hole managed to look both manually and artificially drilled.

The reactor having an issue itself wasn’t the cause of the crew’s prolonged anxiety after it was fixed—it was the source of it. 

What could have done something like that?

Even as far as Pierce was concerned, there isn’t a single bacteria alive on Earth that could corrode metal that quickly—especially the metal The Skeld is built out of.

Like before liftoff, it seems as though everyone else but Blake is afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this now versus scrounging for more ideas and waiting. I hope chapters will get longer as the story goes on. Hope you're enjoying thus far :)


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